


Stars Made of More Than Ticky-Tacky

by elistaire



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Community: hlh_shortcuts, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:10:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3133994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elistaire/pseuds/elistaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is Methos at his work desk,<br/>There is Methos pushing paper,<br/>There is Methos in his big house,<br/>and the houses all look the same.</p><p>...but the people in the houses aren't the same. Some of them look farther than their neighbors' windows; they look to the stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars Made of More Than Ticky-Tacky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merriman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merriman/gifts).



> Written for Merriman, for the hlh-shortcuts 2014 exchange fest. 
> 
> (Modified) notes posted with the story: 
> 
> This request made me start considering the complexities of being an immortal, but not about the large scope, more about some of the smaller things that happen in an immortal's life. I hope the few this fic touch upon are found to be of interest for contemplation. A good many of them would be annoyances that would never go away! The devil is in the details. And a big thank you to my beta, Pat!

"Can you believe they're raising our health care premiums?" Loretta rinsed her plate at the break room sink, swiping viciously at a smear of microwaved-on cheese. "We finally got a cost of living upgrade and it was entirely eaten up by the increase!" 

"And then some!" The other two office workers still eating their lunch chorused their dismay together. "Don't I know it!" 

Methos waited patiently for the automatic individual coffee cup brewer to finish dispensing. The stream of coffee seemed to take an infinitely long time. 

"What do you think, Adam?" asked Loretta. She turned off the faucet at the sink and turned to face him, one hand on her hip and the other hand gripping the wet plate. 

"It is highly frustrating," Methos said. "I would like to see that money in my paycheck." He would actually like to see all the money in his paycheck. It was mandatory to have health insurance, so every paycheck there was a deduction for health services that Methos would never use. 

He avoided the doctor like the plague. Firstly, he didn't need the services of someone who might realize that Methos was not entirely an average human. Secondly, the only thing Methos would need health care coverage for would be a missing head. Not something that was fixable. Avoiding it in the first place was the only way to go. 

He would have been actually frustrated, but it was hard to muster up that sort of energy when he'd seen so many decades where people got sick and died, and even when he was a doctor, sometimes the knowledge just hadn't been there to do anything about it. He much preferred to have people living, even if they were as annoying as his coworkers. 

"Exactly!" Loretta fumed. "I don't understand how there hasn't been a bigger uproar."

Mercifully, his coffee finished brewing. Methos clutched the cup and zipped out of the break room. He had boring reports to go over. He didn't love his job as a Project Manager overseeing medical research, but there was nothing wrong with it. He'd needed to get out of the groove. Too many times he'd gone swimming in the waters of antiques with MacLeod, historian, college professor, college student, translator, or medical professional. He was getting predictable. 

Bad people found you when they could guess where to look. 

Methos settled in at his desk, sipped his coffee, and focused his eyes on the report in front of him. He didn't look up again until it was dark outside. 

The main area outside his office was empty as he pulled on his trench coat and made his way to the parking area. There were still a few cars left in the lot, the usual ones, and for a brief moment Methos pitied them. Their lives were so short and the same people kept spending their few hours of brilliance stuffed into a giant box, grinding out paper.  
He shook off the ennui. It never was wise to dwell upon such philosophical matters on the way home. 

Pulling in to his driveway, Methos hit the garage door opener, parked, and then hit the button again. The door closed behind him, safely sealing him into his home. He climbed out, leaving his work back in the car. He'd retrieve it later. It was always better to have his hands free when he first came home, just in case someone had snuck into the house while he was out. 

An Immortal he would feel. He'd picked out this lot and had this house specifically built to play to his strengths. The edge of his sensing range stopped just short of the road such that he could be anywhere within the house. He couldn't sense an Immortal driving past, but neither could any happenstance Immortal cruising by detect him. His home was ringed by green grass all around and behind the structure were deep woods. He'd spent some time in there, prepping traps, building hidey-holes, and stashing emergency rations. At the far edge of a residential community, he was both part of it and apart from it. It provided security with neighbors and other people milling about, but was separate enough that if something bad went down, he could keep it quiet.

His home was a fortress, but it looked like common suburbia. 

Methos canvassed the house and, assured that no non-Immortals were skulking about, he retrieved his work bag and started on dinner. Just as he was sliding the casserole into the oven, his doorbell rang. 

He accessed the front door video footage from his phone, since eyeholes in front doors were just an invitation to be shot through the eye, and groaned. His aforementioned neighbors, come to mill about. He'd have played opossum, but these neighbors kept watch. They'd have seen him arrive home. He squared his shoulders and took himself to the front door. 

"Good evening," he said.

"Hi, Adam," said Gwen with a little wave of her hand. 

Her mother marched right in. "He's at it again. I don't trust it." Edda Kilnarve was not a woman to stand on politeness. 

"What's he doing this time?" Methos asked. He followed Edda into his own kitchen. 

She wrinkled her nose at the strewn about leftovers from his casserole attempt. Then she went into his cupboard, retrieved a package of coffee, and starting making a fresh pot. "Very suspicious stuff," she said. "Walks before dawn so he's back in the house. Nobody has ever really gotten a good look at him. Goes off for hours and days. Gets packages delivered all the time. Keeps the curtains closed. But I see shadows moving around in there."

"Mom thinks he might be a dance instructor," Gwen said. She gave a little cough and made pleading eyes at Methos. She knew her mother was eccentric, but she was in the business of placating her. She was going through a bad breakup and had returned to live with her mom until she got her life together again. In the meantime, she was dealing with her mother's semi-paranoia and forceful personality. Methos appreciated it. The more Gwen placated, the less he and the other neighbors had to deal with.

"Lots of shadows over there, behind those curtains," Edda said. 

"He's probably like me. Works a lot of hours. Exercises early. No time to shop so he orders in." When Methos had first moved into the residential community, Edda had focused her attention on him. She had not approved of his Immortal-tinged ways. Living life as a recluse didn't jive with her world view. She wanted to know who her neighbors were and what her neighbors were up to. Realizing that the lesser of the evils was to appease Edda, Methos had obligingly made her acquaintance. Of course, in giving her an inch, she took a mile and then some. 

"Maybe," Edda gave up grudgingly. "But I've been watching the news. It's time neighbors started paying attention to each other. He could be growing drugs in there. Mixing up cocktails. Or hiding people. Women, maybe. Children." She shuddered. "All sorts of horrible things. Usually I can get a glimpse on people. Lots of people are private. But once you figure out they're just doing their own thing, they can be left alone."

The coffee finished brewing and Edda opened up a cabinet and took out three mugs. She filled them and handed them over. 

"Mom, right now there's nothing to do. We'll just keep watching him. Wait for an opportunity to get to know him."

"Hmmm," Edda said.

"Gwen is right," Methos chimed in. Most of the time Edda tromped over and chewed on her suspicions for an hour or two in his kitchen. Methos thought she held the opinion that since he lived alone, he was lonely. Somewhere between being suspicious of the neighbors and visiting him for company to ease his solitude and her own cabin-fever, there was probably also the ember burning bright that if Gwen was single and he was single, then it was matchmaking time. Methos let it keep its own slow burn and didn't try to stir that up.

Edda clunked down her coffee cup. "He's up to nothing good, I can promise you that. I've been doing this long enough that I know the signs. He's shifty." She tapped her fingers on the counter. "I've seen his curtains twitch. I think he's watching us."

"He's watching us watch him?" Methos asked, unable to resist. 

Edda just narrowed her eyes. "I think he's got eyes on you, Adam. Every time I see him lurking at the window, it's aimed at your house." 

Methos frowned.

Edda pointed at Gwen. "Come on, we're going over there."

"To knock on his door?" Gwen asked, the hope in her voice obvious. 

"Not yet," Edda replied. "I want to know what he's about first."

Methos sighed. Then he reluctantly turned the oven off. Since the oven was already hot the casserole would continue to cook and then stay warm, if he was lucky. But at least it wouldn't burn to a crisp. "Give me a minute to change into something suitable." Given the circumstances, Methos thought that the hapless guy in the house adjoining their properties was probably just a regular office schmuck stuck pile-driving reams of paper like so many others. Lurking at his window in Methos' direction could mean anything. Edda built castles on clouds. She saw what she wanted to see. But just in case it wasn't harmless, Methos supposed he should be in on the action. 

He and Joe still chatted and got together pretty often, so Methos didn't think it was a Watcher. Joe usually kept him informed. Besides, Watchers blended. Edda wouldn't have given a second thought to a Watcher in the neighborhood. They put on a cheery front and trimmed hedges with the best of them. Real spy work like that was subversive to the extreme. 

Beyond being a legitimate Watcher, though, there was the possibility of a rogue vigilante. Probabilities were against it. Lurking and minding their own business wasn't usually the general operating prerogative of hateful bad guys. Usually they tried creeping around while attempting some vicious skullduggery. 

Methos changed into black clothing and popped a few useful items into his pockets. He had no intention of sharing his night-vision goggles with Edda and Gwen, but if there was a surreptitious moment to use them, he might bring them out. "All set?" he asked when he returned downstairs. 

"Let's go." Edda lead the way. 

They filed down the driveway and slipped in past the shrubs. Squatting down at the base of the plants, Methos got a good view of the house. They were still quite a distance away and hadn't yet trespassed. 

"See? Look!" Edda whispered. She pointed a finger at the indistinct shadows moving against the curtains. Methos first thought was that the homeowner needed to purchase heavier drape material. 

The house was similar to all the others in the neighborhood in that it sported neutral colored siding and large windows. The neighborhood was transitioning from modest to upscale and each subsequent home built on a new lot seemed even bigger than the previous. This particular house was more modest, but it was still quite large. 

"We need to get closer." Edda pointed again and this time Methos realized it wasn't just the moving shadows she had indicated, but one ill-folded corner of a curtain in one window. A small triangle of soft light beckoned them. They could peer through it and see the mysterious homeowner and whatever shenanigans he might be up to. 

"Let's do this," Methos said. If Edda could be appeased then perhaps the weeks of hashing over suspicions could be stopped. Although Methos supposed that it would just transition to Edda harboring suspicions about someone else. Personalities like Edda's didn't just ebb away. Methos would have moved to another residence, but there would just be another Edda. There always was. 

"Something wrong?" Gwen whispered. "You look like you just stepped on a cat."

"Just nervous," Methos said and schooled his features. "I don't snoop around on people's properties that much."

"With mom, I just get used to it." 

"Quit making noise and get over here!" Edda was on her tip-toes as she peered into the house. "Damn! He's gone off into another room. Like he knew we were coming!" 

Methos stifled the reflexive sigh. 

Then they heard the main door open and a voice called out. Contrary to Edda's intelligence, it was distinctly feminine. "Who's there? Is everything okay?"

Before Edda could reply, Methos stepped forward into the wedge of light shining out from the front opening. "Just us, a few neighbors. We heard noises," he invented, "and came out to investigate. We thought it might be a raccoon."

Behind him, he heard Edda clamp down. He could imagine her grinding away. Gwen only made a squeak. 

"You probably scared it away," said the woman in the doorframe. She was older, Methos would have guessed in her 80's from the way her face was lined, but she carried herself with vitality. "It's cold out there and the grass is damp. Would you like to come in for some tea?" Her smile was friendly. 

"Love to!" said Edda, and she tromped forward. "I'm Edda," she said. "That's my daughter, Gwen, and our neighbor, Adam."

"My name is Marguerite," said the woman. "I'm so pleased to meet you."

Adam motioned for Gwen to proceed him. As he passed, he caught the twinkle in Marguerite's eyes. He stopped and took one of her hands in both of his. "I must say, it is an exquisite honor to finally meet you. We've been wondering about our new neighbor for a while, and it has been a shame not to have the opportunity until now to get to know you."

Beneath her years, it was obvious to see that Marguerite had been a gorgeous creature. She was still lovely to behold, but in Methos' estimation it was for far more than just her external beauty. One of the skills learned over his life that Methos prized most highly was the ability to get an accurate read on a person within moments. It had saved his life numerous times, and opened the doors to many friendships. His instincts were stirred by Marguerite and his curiosity urged him to learn more about her. 

"Aren't you a gentleman," Marguerite replied. "Come have tea and we can chat."

"Of course, dear lady."

"What is it that you do?" asked Edda. She was turning circles in the kitchen area, which was just beyond the entryway. Besides being a regular kitchen, with comfortable touches and knickknacks tucked into corners, there were a series of photographs on the walls depicting various night skies. 

"Currently I'm retired," Marguerite said. She closed the door and entered the kitchen. As she filled a copper kettle with water from the tap, she continued speaking. "But I used to be an astronomer. I taught at university for a number of years."

"How lovely," said Gwen. "A beautiful science where you get to study the stars."

"It requires a little more math than that, but yes, essentially." Marguerite pulled four mugs out of her cabinets. 

"Keeps you up at nights, then?" asked Edda. Methos and Gwen had taken seats at the table, but Edda still prowled the kitchen. She peered past the doorways into other parts of the house. 

"It does now. Without the observatory, if I want to see the night sky, I actually have to resort to a home telescope." She pulled a brightly patterned teapot out. "Herbal tea? I imagine caffeine will keep you up otherwise."

Edda sniffed. "I like black tea. No sugar, no milk. I'm lactose intolerant."

"Oh, my, now that is a difficulty," said Marguerite. 

"Huh," Edda said, neither affirming nor denying, but definitely disapproving. 

Methos looked down at his hands and smiled. When he lifted his head again, Marguerite winked at him. 

After that, Edda and Gwen didn't stay long. The tea was sipped and left mostly full and cold in the cups when they departed. Methos lingered. His own cup had already been refilled twice. 

"You came along with them, but you aren't the same," Marguerite commented as she tidied her kitchen area. 

"I'm not," Methos agreed. "And neither are you." At Marguerite's knowing nod, he went on, "Gwen is a good child. She loves her mother and she's just going through a rough patch."

"Edda is another matter entirely?" Marguerite opened a cabinet and pulled out a small package. She unwrapped it and broke it into two, sliding over a solid square of dark chocolate on a napkin. 

"This looks like the good stuff," Methos said. 

"It would have been rude before. This is made with cream and milk." Marguerite took a bite of her own dark square and her face relaxed into ecstasy. 

"So you study the stars," Methos said as he nibbled a corner of the square. It melted on his tongue, rich and deep, satisfying in a way that he hadn't expected. 

"They're beautiful. Either as the twinkling lights in the sky that can guide us across oceans. Or as the combustible engines of energy and fuel, and the eventual doom of the systems that surround them. They perplex us with their math and then gift us with poetry. How can I not love them?"

"Indeed," Methos said. "The heavens are a constant mystery. But I thought you said you were retired."

"On sabbatical, actually. I needed to get away for a while after some unpleasantness. So I rented this house for the rest of the semester."

"You'll go back?"

"I like to think so. I'm without an observatory now and all the computers that go with it. And the staff. I do miss having others around. But I still have my telescope." She sighed. "There is something to be said for getting back to basics. I feel as if my dreams are expanded when I study the sky like so many did before me. It's a little more difficult to find something new up there, but the newfound things aren't always the ones most worth looking at."

Methos shook his head. "If you were my age, I would fall in love with you," he said. 

Marguerite arched an eyebrow. "If you were my age, I'd let you. Now," she said, "would you like to spend the night? The moon is especially lovely right now and the night is clear. Or perhaps you'd prefer something more rare and thrilling? I have a telescope and there are hours of darkness."

"And everyone else will be asleep?"

"You can call it a tryst, if it makes you feel better," Marguerite offered. She got up from the table and moved away into the house. 

Feeling as if he were being mesmerized, Methos followed. 

In all the suburban jungle, to find this one ray of starlight seemed entirely impossible. Sometimes it seemed to him the cruelest twist of fate that so many of the mortals he loved the best were already at the end of their lifespan when he finally recognized their worth, having spent decades losing their vapidity. It left him to watch them flare briefly and brilliantly, and then fade. Like the proverbial falling star. 

Oh, but it would be worse to never witness that blaze of vibrancy. 

So, Methos followed. Marguerite whispered to him about the secrets of the dark night heavens and he gazed upon the soft waves of moonlight in the lush velvet of the sky, with a new friend at his elbow, and was happy for the fleeting moment.


End file.
